


Your Heart is a Heavy Load to Carry but We all do What We Must

by victoriousscarf



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Foreshadowing thou art a heartless bitch, M/M, Set during tBotFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:14:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3212150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I did,” Bofur said. “It’s getting late. You’ve been up for hours.”</p><p>“I cannot rest there,” Fíli said, and Bofur wondered if he meant the whole mountain or simply where the others were. “Besides, Thorin would frown on that, I feel.”</p><p>“Then damn Thorin,” Bofur said and Fíli slapped a hand over his mouth, looking around frantically for a moment before he drew it back.</p><p>“Don’t,” he said, quiet and hurt. “He told us to search until we find the Arkenstone. So we must.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Heart is a Heavy Load to Carry but We all do What We Must

“Fíli,” Bofur called, and it echoed around the chambers, bouncing off piles of gold and Bofur had never felt so unsure or uncomfortable calling that name.

“Fíli,” he tried again and finally there was an answering rustle in return, Fíli poking his head up over a pile of gold, far across the room, firelight flickering off the walls and his hair. Bofur tried not to look at the gold itself. “Ah, there you are,” he said, and started climbing over the piles of gold, Fíli hesitating before he slid down a particularly high pile toward Bofur.

“What is it?” he asked, and Bofur had never heard him sound so exhausted.

“You need to rest,” Bofur said, as they finally met in the middle.

“You didn’t come all the way over here just to tell me that, did you?” Fíli asked, and his eyes were shadowed. He was starting to look as rung out as Thorin, though they had been in the mountain for far less time. Bofur tried to remember what Fíli’s smile looked like, even as recently as when they came back to the mountain, Fíli throwing his arms around Ori and being clapped on the back by Nori.

“I did,” Bofur said. “It’s getting late. You’ve been up for hours.”

“I cannot rest there,” Fíli said, and Bofur wondered if he meant the whole mountain or simply where the others were. “Besides, Thorin would frown on that, I feel.”

“Then damn Thorin,” Bofur said and Fíli slapped a hand over his mouth, looking around frantically for a moment before he drew it back.

“Don’t,” he said, quiet and hurt. “He told us to search until we find the Arkenstone. So we must.”

“He,” Bofur started and Fíli’s hand was back over his mouth.

“Don’t,” he repeated. “It’s dangerous to speak those things and I…” he dropped his hand again, turning away.

“You can’t hear it,” Bofur finished for him, and his shoulders hunched, Fíli nodded. Bofur sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out, reaching a hand out to barely brush Fíli’s shoulder. “This isn’t the homecoming you expected, was it?”

“It’s not a homecoming,” Fíli said, still not looking at him and Bofur felt something lodge in his throat, painful and too big for him to deal with. “This has never been my home. I don’t remember it, I’ve never been here. How could it be my home?” He shook his head. “I wanted it to be my home, but it’s not a homecoming.”

“Then Erebor is just not what you expected,” Bofur said and Fíli let out another, exhausted breath. “You need to rest,” Bofur said.

“I can’t here,” Fíli said, repeating their earlier conversation as he hung his head. Bofur reached out, resting both his hands on Fíli’s hips and pulling him until his back hit Bofur’s chest. He felt all of Fíli’s breath leak out at once, and Fíli dropped his head back against Bofur’s shoulder, burying his face in it. Bofur’s hands were shaking, because he had not held Fíli in so long but it felt familiar and wrong all at once.

“Come on then,” he murmured, nuzzling into Fíli’s hair. “There’s some guardhouses, some baloneys still. The fresh air will do you good.”

“Alright,” Fíli agreed finally, letting Bofur tug and prod him away from the gold and up the stairs. He did not really know where he was going, but felt certain they would eventually find a bit of walkway exposed to the air. He sighed happily when he was proven right, pushing Fíli until he sat down on a fallen rock, neither of them commenting on the destruction Smaug wrecked on Erebor.

“The sun’s coming up,” Fíli said, looking away from Bofur out to the sky.

“So it is,” Bofur said, turning his own head. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon, pink and warm, the landscape cold and covered in snow. Under the natural light, Fíli’s face only looked more ashen and Bofur’s whole chest hurt. “You haven’t slept,” he accused.

“I think I did in Laketown,” Fíli admitted. “When I could, snatches here and there, while worrying about Kíli.”

“And then we had to flee in the middle of the night,” Bofur said. “And then you pushed us into the boat and we walked all the way here.”

“Yes,” Fíli nodded.

“And you’ve not slept all this time?” Bofur demanded, Fíli pausing before shaking his head.

“Kíli was asleep last I looked,” he said. “But I … I couldn’t figure out how. How to relax enough, how to breathe enough.”

Bofur ran a hand over his face, trying to convince himself not to yell or shake Fíli or collapse against him and just hold on, like it would protect either of them. “You have to rest,” he said.

“The people of Laketown were coming this way,” Fíli said, still looking out over the ruins of Dale. “They will be here, by tonight or the next morning. The trek would be harder, for they have women and children still, and a far way to come. But they will be here.” He finally looked back at Bofur. “We promised them gold.”

“Aye,” Bofur agreed.

“And that man killed Smaug,” Fíli continued. “But Thorin,” and he fell silent, looking back at Dale. “I don’t know what he’ll do.”

“He’s always been honorable,” Bofur said and Fíli snorted, pulling a ruby from inside his coat and Bofur recognized with a lurch as the one Thorin had thrown at his heir’s head.

“Yes,” Fíli agreed, holding it up to show Bofur, as if he hadn’t seen or recognized it. “But he is not himself.”

“I don’t understand what he was doing,” Bofur admitted, and took the ruby. Fíli let it fall into his hands. “He didn’t mean to hurt you, did he?”

“No,” Fíli said, shaking his head. “I don’t think so. I’m his heir, the one who will inherit all this someday,” and Bofur noticed his chest was jumping, his breathing shallow and shaky. He dropped the ruby and grabbed both of Fíli’s hands instead, trying to ground him. “I think he was making a point about that. Welcoming us. To this… this place.”

“Fíli,” Bofur said, and tugged Fíli until the prince slide off the stone and against Bofur’s chest. He wrapped his arms around Fíli, holding on as he shook against Bofur’s chest.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, face pressed against Bofur’s chest, muffling the words, bird song in the distance. “I’m scared of what he’s become, what he might do. To all of us, to any of us.”

“He loves you,” Bofur said instead of anything else. “He would never hurt you.”

Fíli choked on a laugh. “I used to believe in him so much,” he said. “He was always… hard, cold sometimes. Dedicated and bitter. But he was my uncle and he held me and sung me to sleep when I had nightmares and burned with fire and would lead us to the end of the world and I believed he would lead us back. I don’t know what he’s going to do now. I don’t know what I might do.”

Bofur’s hand traced up and down Fíli’s spine, trying to sooth. “You’ll do what you’ve always done,” he said and Fíli tilted his face up to look at him. “Which is whatever you think is right.”

“Hey Bofur?” Fíli said, quiet and faint.

“Yeah?” Bofur asked, looking down.

“Be careful,” Fíli said, eyes serious and Bofur brought his hands up to cup Fíli’s face, feeling his braided moustache brush against the back of his fingers as he stroked Fíli’s cheeks. “Be careful around him. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m very good at taking care of myself,” Bofur assured and Fíli’s smile was faint, but it was the most Bofur had seen in days, since Mirkwood.

“I’m glad of that,” Fíli said and Bofur swallowed back his moan when Fíli pressed up, his mouth gentle against Bofur’s. “I’m glad of that above so many things,” Fíli added, wrapping his arms around Bofur’s neck and drawing him down, this kiss harsher, Fíli pushing into Bofur’s mouth.

“You need to rest,” Bofur said, but he could not tear his hands away from Fíli’s face and his fingers ached to look into Fíli’s eyes because it had been so long since they last touched. Since he could slide a hand around Fíli’s waist and watch the prince’s cheeks redden faintly and look at him under his lashes. Since he had pressed caste and hungry kisses to Fíli’s face, hidden underneath a waterfall in Rivendell and it had been worth the wet clothes to see Fíli’s eyes glowing up at him.

“I can’t,” Fíli shook his head and nuzzled into Bofur’s neck, dragging his teeth across the skin there and Bofur shuddered, hands feeling too big as he tucked one behind Fíli’s neck, golden hair heavy against it. “Distract me instead?”

“Is that all I am to you?” Bofur asked, meant to be teasing but Fíli’s eyes flickered up to Bofur’s face from where he was still pressed against his neck.

“No,” Fíli said, and his eyes were too serious, too full of other meaning so Bofur dragged his face back up, tilting his chin back to kiss him again, so he wouldn’t have to look anymore. “Bofur,” Fíli protested, shoving him back slightly. “You mean so much more to—”

“Don’t,” Bofur was the one to say now and Fíli frowned.

“Why not?” he demanded.

“Tell me whatever you’re going to tell me about this after we survive it,” Bofur said and Fíli stared at him, eyes dark in the pink glow of the sunrise. “Anything right now feels too much like a confession because you’re worried we’re going to die.”

“I _am_ worried we’re going to die,” Fíli said and Bofur kissed him again, quick and desperate.

“Tell me after,” he said. “When things are slow, and we have time, and I can touch you everywhere and show you how much you mean to me.”

Fíli’s eyes closed. “So I do mean something to you?” he asked, quiet and low and almost lost among so much heavy stone and chilled air.

“My prince,” Bofur murmured, something that always made Fíli tense and now was no exception. “You mean everything to me.”

“Now who’s making desperate confessions?” Fíli asked, but when he opened his eyes they were wide and there was a spark of happiness buried deep in there.

“Oh,” Bofur said, smearing a kiss along Fíli’s cheek. “It slipped out.”

“Can I at least respond now?” Fíli asked and Bofur shook his head.

“No, sorry,” he said, tone light and teasing and he felt Fíli’s stomach jump when he wormed a hand under his coat, finger tips finding bare skin. “You’ll have to tell me later.”

“Bofur,” Fíli said, faintly. “Bofur there might not be—”

“Tell me when we’ve won this mountain back for certain, and when Thorin’s eyes are not so dark and when we can stand outside the gate in peace,” Bofur said instead. “Tell me everything then.”

“What if I want to tell you now?” Fíli asked, and looked young and unsure for the first time in Bofur’s recent memory.

He still shook his head. “No. Wait. Wait until we can spend all the time in the world together, basking in our mutual affections.”

“Mutual affections,” Fíli said softly. “Alright,” and he kissed Bofur, gentle this time, like a quiet promise.

“You did tell me to be careful,” Bofur said, and his finger skimmed around Fíli’s stomach to touch his back, Fíli shifting restlessly up against him. “I do not think your uncle would think much of me for stripping his heir and ravishing him here.”

“There’s no one to see us,” Fíli said, and it felt like a lifetime since they hid in Beorn’s garden shed, Fíli’s face pressed against his chest to muffle his sounds. “I’ll defend you.”

Bofur did not say that Fíli was as scared, if not more, of Thorin then all the rest of them combined. He caught the glint of the dropped ruby out of the corner of his eye, and forcefully determined to ignore it. “And if the others find us.”

“I don’t care,” Fíli said, and he was rarely this forceful or vicious outside of these moments, where it felt like it was just them in a large world. “Please, Bofur,” he added and Bofur could never resist a plea, especially not from Fíli.

He kissed the golden hair, gently working Fíli’s coat off and tossing it back over the rock, pressing Fíli back against it. “There’s nothing in this world I treasure more then you.”

“We’re sitting on an awful lot of treasure,” Fíli remarked, as if disbelieving.

“Aye,” Bofur agreed. “And it’s very wonderful.” He fumbled one hand out, the other still pressed against Fíli’s warm skin, feeling his shaky breathing and the jumping muscles. Finding the ruby with the other hand, he held it in front of Fíli’s face and Fíli stared at him, in shock and something else before Bofur dropped the ruby off over the parapet.

“Bofur!” Fíli protested in a hiss. “If Thorin…” Bofur swallowed his next words with another desperate kiss, forcing Fíli back and over the fallen stone, covering his body with his slightly taller and stockier one. “Now who’s still being emotional?” Fíli added, when Bofur finally drew away. “To say I’m worth more than all that treasure below,” and his breath hitched.

“Ah, I messed up again,” Bofur said, pressing a kiss to Fíli’s collarbone, Fíli’s hands coming up to wrap around his back, dragging down.

“Then at least let me say—” Fíli started and Bofur cut him off with a kiss. “You cheat,” Fíli accused and Bofur only smiled, pulling Fíli’s lower lip with him for a moment when he drew back before releasing it.

“I never said I fought fair,” he said, and kissed Fíli again, under the glowing light from the sunrise, Fíli’s quiet cries lost in the great expanse of the sky as ravens circled overhead.

Later he watched as Fíli put himself back together, first the coat with its makeshift belt, and then his braids which he did without looking over at Bofur. Before he could step back into the mountain, Bofur caught his arm.

“Bofur,” Fíli said quietly, and his limbs were looser, his expression a bit freer but the mountain still weighed heavy on his shoulders.

“You have to sleep,” Bofur said, drawing him back down and against his chest. “Sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

“And when will you sleep?” Fíli asked, but he let Bofur draw him down and close.

“I already slept a while last night,” Bofur said. “And I will more when you have risen. But you must rest.”

Fíli sighed but Bofur could feel his body relax. “Bofur, I…”

“No,” Bofur cut off yet again.

“You are insufferable,” Fíli muttered into his chest.

“Later,” Bofur promised again, smoothing a hand over Fíli’s redone braids. They were still haphazard compared to when the quest started, but better then they looked moments before. “Later, when I can take you to a bed, and kiss every piece of you and murmur devotion into the skin of your elbow, of the joint of your thigh, of the knobs of your spine.”

Fíli shivered. “If you promise you’ll allow me to do the same then,” he said, voice already drifting.

“Aye,” Bofur said. “I promise then.”

He watched the sunlight slowly seep over the ruins of Dale and the valley, listening to the birds and Fíli’s quiet breathing and did not think about the next morning, or the hunt continuing in the mountain, or the way Fíli watched his uncle now, or the heavy stone above their heads.

Instead he hummed quietly, to himself and Fíli, passed out finally in exhaustion, and dreamed about that quiet day and that bed and what their lives would look like.

“Fíli,” he whispered, breaking his own song, mouth pressed against the golden hair. “Promise me you’ll survive until then.”

Only the raven’s cry answered him.

Fíli’s promise, he admitted to himself, would probably have been a lie anyway.


End file.
